


Green, Green Grass of Home

by Padme Plumes (PhilipJFry)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Yoda sleeps away the evening, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Internal Conflict, Mando has a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he left, Mutual Pining, Star Wars: The Mandalorian, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 17:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21675118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilipJFry/pseuds/Padme%20Plumes
Summary: It's good to touch the green, green grass of homeYes, they'll all come to meet me, arms reaching, smiling sweetlyIt's good to touch the green, green grass of home.--The Mando has left Sorgen and has had time to reflect on what went on during his few weeks of laying low in a small krill fishing village.
Relationships: The Mandalorian/Omera (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Green, Green Grass of Home

_ This is the Way. _

He told himself that over and over. It was who he was. He was part of the Tribe. He was grateful to be a part of the Tribe. He would have given anything to see them prosper.

If all of that had been true, why did he find it so easy to leave? Why did he want nothing more than the freedom afforded to him for escaping?

It was for the safety of the child. So he told himself. The Tribe understood. They covered him to leave and all survived to watch him take off. He had gotten word they were relocating. And that the Foundlings were safe. He looked over to the child, who slept soundly in his copilot chair.

_ They are our future. They are our livelihood. They are our hope. _

Gently, delicately, he picked up the child and allowed him to nestle in his arms. Quietly carrying him to his dismal crew quarters, he set the green kidling into bed. He looked comfortable, remaining asleep even through the bustling. He smiled to himself, hidden under his mask.

Back in the pilot's chair, he looked over his future destinations. Anywhere to lay low was a struggle. But he was used to it.

_This is the Way._

He thought of Sorgen. A sliver of him wished to return. Omera's soft touch that he could feel even through his beskar... He tried to shake the thought.

* * *

"Why do you wear that?" The little girl had continuously hovered around him even when the child was asleep. She was curious. He found no fault in it, having once been just the same. Her innocence was something to behold. Her little hands gripped his cape, pulling it up around her head.

"It's a part of me," he answered simply.  
"But can't you take it off," she pressed, looking almost concerned as she let the cape fall.  
"It's a part of my culture," he corrected. "It's a part of who I am as a person. My people are all like this."

She seemed slightly disappointed in his answer.

"Is the baby going to have a bucket, too?"

He audibly sighed at the question.

"Maybe one day. He's too small right now... And finding a helmet for those ears would certainly take time." She could hear the smile in his voice. It made her break into a grin of her own.

"Are you going to stay here forever?"

Before he could answer, footsteps approached outside the hut.

"Winta, are you bothering him?" Omera approached, a small tray in hand. Her tone was stern, but playful.

"No, mama!" Winta immediately got to her feet, done climbing all over him.

Omera entered the hut, setting the tray down on the side table.

"I apologize, Mando. She is..." She paused, trying to find the right words.  
"Don't worry about it," he murmured, rolling his fingertips against the wooden windowsill. He watched Winta join the other children outside, no doubt telling them all the things she learned from him.

"Ever since it became the two of us, and then the raiders... She keeps herself guarded."  
"She's no trouble. She's very curious... Reminds me of the Foundlings."

Omera smiled at him.

"You are fond of kids, I take it?"

He chuckled in response.

"I wouldn't say fond, but... I understand wanting a parent." He stepped away from the window to meet her gaze. She couldn't see past his barrier, but she could feel it. They were both silent for a moment, content to be. It was another moment before Omera spoke up.

"She hopes you'll stay.. She wants you to stay." The space between them and slowly filled, both of them walking towards one another unconsciously. They were inches apart.

"I don't want to break her heart, but I can't," he hummed.  
"Why not? The people here love you... You helped all of us survive the impossible... There would be no complaints if you wanted to stay," she whispered back, carefully reaching to touch his hands. He didn't stop her.

"Omera... I... I'm not a man who can stay in one place for long. I can't."

She could hear the subtle pleading in his voice, how he wanted to do it all with her. Her grip on his hands tightened for a moment before she let go. Instead, her palms rolled up his chest and on to his helmet.

"If... If your helmet is removed..."

He felt her press her hands closer to his face. Slowly, she started to raise his helmet.

"I can never put it back on again," he whispered, nearly inaudible on his speaker. She continued to raise it, and he allowed her to.

It was almost over his chin when he stopped her. He pressed his hands on top of hers, slowly setting the helmet back into place.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

He woke up to the kidling crawling into his lap. He wanted attention, or perhaps food. They still weren't really communicating well.

"What's wrong?" He hummed, softly patting the top of his head. The child looked up at him and sighed before leaning close. He closed his eyes.

"Alright," he murmured, "you can stay here tonight."

Tonight, it was nearly 1400. Being in space always messed with his biological clocks. He hated not being planet side, even if he was being hunted mercilessly. Having no sense of time or what day it was made him uneasy.

The child cooed, comfortably nestled in the Mandalorian's lap. He wanted nothing more than to be close while he slept. That was something the Mando related to, even if he didn't want to admit it anymore. Being with someone he could trust unconditionally?

That was the dream.

He looked towards the window as they continued to move on autopilot in the ship. His next stop, he was still unsure, but hanging around Sorgen was no longer an option.

Keeping a gloved palm against the child's head, he sighed to himself. This certainly wasn't the life he had imagined for himself, by any stretch. Playing... Caretaker... Certainly not anything he had under his scope. He had helped the Foundlings when he could, always splitting his pay between himself and them, but directly taking care of someone? Hell, he could hardly take care of himself. It showed far more often than he would admit.

He couldn't find it in himself to go back to dozing, instead, he carefully adjusted so he could re-open his galaxy map and begin scanning more planets. Chewing on his lip as he flicked through his options, he was slowly starting to realize how stuck they might have been.

"There really is no place the Guild can't find, is there?" He quietly asked himself. The Guild, the slowly rebuilding Empire (anyone who had at least half a brain could tell they were rebuilding, he didn't doubt it for a second), and just run of the mill crazies... He could handle that. But could the kid?

Looking down in his lap, he moved his hand off the kidling's head. He was comfortable, perhaps even cozy there. He looked peaceful as he slept, unaware of the trouble toiling on the horizon. Trouble.

There was _ always _ trouble.

That much was true, through all the years he had lived in this forsaken galaxy.

There was always trouble. There was always someone looking to shoot you in the back. There was always someone looking to pull the ladder out from under you.

Those were the three things he was sure of and could count on.

Sighing to himself once again, he tried to find something, anything, really.

"Staying in space forever isn't much an option either," he hummed disdainfully.

His options were slim. His money was scarce. His supplies were thinning. He could go without food just fine. Not that he enjoyed it, but he _ could. _ He couldn't last forever that way, especially if the Guild was going to stay on his back.

He exhaled quietly, glancing down at the kidling. How he wished he could sleep just as peacefully.

Fingers trawl over the galaxy map again, trying to find a place to go. Nar Shadda. That's where everyone goes. Dantooine, a political wasteland. Taris, polluted beyond recognition. Options were slim, getting slimmer.

Everywhere he went, trouble followed him.

"Looks like we're gonna play it by ear..." He murmured to himself, setting his coordinates to Nar Shadda. It was where everyone went. It was where they would go and lay low, if only to resupply and get a bit more credits on hand.

_ "You should stay. We love you here. We want you here.."_  
_"I can't."  
_ _"You could have an honest life.. For you and your boy.. Wouldn't it be nice?" _

Once his coordinates were complete, he reached for the control switch.

_ This is the Way. _

No matter how much it would have been nice. He watched the stars pass him by, keeping a hand on the kidling as he slept, unaware of their shift through space.

"It would..."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) I might make a continuation of this or start a Mando-centric fic once the first season wraps up. Let me know what you think in the comments!


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